Cathedral
by MantoDea
Summary: Postseries oneshot. The Kira case is finally over, and Giovanni is relieved to finally be getting away from his overbearing employer--until he stumbles across something unexpected.


**Disclaimer:** Death Note is not mine. 

**A/N:** A quick postseries oneshot…about Near, naturally. I've been sort of fiddling around with a possible multichapter that is taking a lot longer to hammer out than I thought it would, but this idea was sort of simmering on the backburner and I needed a short break from the other. mk less talk more story, hope you like it.

Cathedral

"Because, Hal," Giovanni said, gesturing with his drink. "Just his attitude. He was willing to throw my life on the line, or Lester's if I spoke up and said no. And you know, that's fine. I was willing to risk my life for the Kira case, or I wouldn't have been there. But he didn't even ask—he put it in a way that I would have looked a coward, backing out of his plan! He takes it for granted that we'll all risk our lives. It's not about people to him, just factors."

Hal Ridner leaned back in the booth, sipping her cocktail. "He's still the best and brightest out there. You're not going to find a more successful employer."

"Perhaps not. But it wouldn't be much of a hunt to find one more amiable! That kid is seriously messed up. Everything in life is a puzzle to him. I don't think he's even capable of thinking about anything _but_ the case." He set his beer down a little too firmly in his frustration, a liberal splash of the froth sloshing over the edge of the glass. Hastily he grabbed a napkin and began mopping it up.

Lester swirled his drink thoughtfully. "I think that's both more true and less so than you realize," he said seriously.

Giovanni wiped off his glass and picked it back up. "What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"Well—" Lester glanced around the restaurant, where the three were having a little celebration for the end of the Kira case combined with a farewell sendoff for Giovanni. He lowered his voice and leaned in; Ridner and Giovanni leaned forward to catch his words. "When he had me investigating that Mello person, I ended up discovering a little about him too."

Ridner frowned. "Weren't they in an institution together? Some sort of boarding school?" 

Lester shook his head. "Not a boarding school per se. Wammy's was an orphanage, but also a sort of school—specifically for training possible successors to L. Near had been there since he was five. I doubt he's ever been encouraged to pursue anything else—competition was pretty fierce, as I understand it."

Ridner's mouth formed a soft 'oh' of surprise.

Giovanni leaned back, putting his drink down again and crossing his arms. "That's as may be," he said. "Maybe he's had a rough life. But I'm not about to make a career decision based on pity for a person who has been so messed up by his experiences that he's completely buried in his cases to the point of being unable to think of anything else."

Lester stared into his drink for a moment, then shrugged. "It's your decision, and that's only right. I didn't mean that you should pity him, only that there are probably reasons he is the way he is. In some way he's only human, after all. But either way, I'm sure you're making the right decision for yourself."

"Yes, although we will miss you sorely," Ridner said warmly. "You'll have to be sure to keep in contact."

Giovanni grinned mischievously. "Just because I don't want to work for Near doesn't mean you'll be able to get rid of me that easily."

All in all it was a pleasant evening, he reflected, as they reentered headquarters, hushing their laughter as they came through the door. A good end to a long, exhausting trial.

Near had not pressed any of them, or really showed a preference or any other sign that he cared if they continued to work for him now that the SPK was no longer necessary. He had offered continued employment or a generous retirement plan to all of them if they wished it, and asked that they let him know what their decision was before they returned to the States so that he could make arrangements accordingly. Lester and Ridner had already told Near that they would stay. Giovanni had yet to tell the strange teenager that he was leaving (though he had a feeling he didn't have to say anything for him to know it—he always seemed to know things about people before they knew it themselves).

The three of them separated; Lester and Ridner to their bedrooms, and Giovanni, seeing the dim light peeping under the door of the large room where Near liked to set up his more expansive card and match castles, decided now was as good a time as any to tell the teen of his intentions to find other work. Might as well get it out of the way.

He knocked twice then opened the door; Near was always awake this time of night—Giovanni wasn't actually sure when the teen slept—and was used to his employees coming and going. To his surprise, however, Near was not in the room. In fact, there were no castles either. The only thing Giovanni saw other than the monitoring screens and desks lining the walls was a lit desk lamp sitting in the middle of the vast floor, casting a pool of light over a pile of large, scattered papers.

Frowning in curiousity, Giovanni approached the circle of light, peering at the papers, which seemed to be drawings of some sort. He knelt and examined them.

They were blueprints. 

Giovanni picked up one of the large creased sheets, fascinated. Long, exact lines and grids, arching curves, columns of numbers. Meticulous notes written in a neat, precise hand regarding materials, metal stress, angles and loads and supports. And on other pages were details, rough sketches of a tall, steepled building and vaulted alcoves and organ pipes, diagrams of intricately detailed stained glass windows, drawings of gargoyles and geometric figures and people in various stages of completion, some scribbled out, others carefully shaded and similarly noted with comments on construction and placement.

He took in the pencils lined up next to the lamp with a little hand sharpener, the jumble of clear protractors and rulers. Whistling quietly in amazement, Giovanni wondered how long Near had been working on this little project. He had had occasion to look at a lot of blueprints in his life, and this had obviously been painstakingly done.

"Ah…you're back already."

Giovanni whirled around guiltily. Near stood in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other, to the man's surprise, carrying a plate with what appeared to be a sandwich on it. 

Well, he had to eat _sometime_, Giovanni supposed. Still, the sandwich seemed bizarrely mundane.

They stood uneasily for a moment, Near looking not at Giovanni but at the paper in his hand, with an expression that suggested that for once in his life he was silent not because he did not feel it was necessary to speak, but because he didn't know what to say. If Giovanni hadn't felt like a small child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he might have felt a little amused to see Near thus discomfited for once.

"Er, I'm sorry," he said, setting the paper back down carefully. "I was just—"

"It's ok," Near interrupted him, padding into the room. A red pencil was stuck behind his ear, Giovanni noticed, and it looked decidedly odd against his usual unrelieved white. He dropped to the floor across from the older man, setting his plate down next to the lamp. It was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, neatly halved into triangles. Giovanni fought a mad desire to laugh. Perhaps he had had too much to drink.

He realized Near was looking at him expectantly, curling a lock of hair around one finger. Well, of course. The teen had come in to find him inexplicably in the room that was basically Near's, rifling through his things. Remembering why he was here, Giovanni was about to tell him why he had come. But—

"I didn't think you had much interest in churches," he heard himself saying, and immediately wished he could take it back. 

Near shrugged, dropping his eyes to gaze at the precise lines and arches. "I don't," he admitted. "I tend to prefer architecture that is a little more angular and less cluttered…. But…someone I knew would have liked it."

Giovanni blinked, a little astonished by his unexpectedly forthright and revealing answer, and wondered how many other blueprint drafts Near had stashed around this place. It would certainly be too personal to ask who Near was referring to (although he had suspicions).

"It's—quite good," he said, wondering how far Near would actually carry the conversation. The teen glanced up at him quizzically. "My father was an engineer," Giovanni went on, not sure why he was feeling so talkative tonight. It had to have been that third beer he had had.

"What sort of work did he do?" Near asked with an interest that Giovanni had in the past associated with the teen's stumbling unexpectedly over some invaluable clue in the Kira case.

"Oh, well," Giovanni said awkwardly, "nothing like this. Bridges, mostly. But he really liked unique buildings…he had framed blueprints of the Sidney Opera House in his office…."

Near nodded eagerly, and his eyes were lit with a quiet passion as he gazed down at the neat lines of the cathedral. "I've studied a little about bridges…not as much as buildings…I have this design for a suspension bridge though that—" he stopped abruptly, flushing a little. "Well…I hope to learn more about the subject."

"Have you built any of these?" Giovanni asked daringly.

"Oh, no…." Near shrugged a little ruefully. A touch of sadness colored his voice as he said, "I have other work to do…perhaps someday I'll have time." He glanced up through his thick bangs. "There isn't really room for L to be a moonlighting engineer."

Giovanni frowned, but didn't think Near would much appreciate any trite advice about following his dreams, especially given the intense mental and emotional ordeal he had just undergone to become L in the first place. He wondered briefly if this sudden openness was related to the relief of the stress of the Kira case, or if Near was always a little friendlier at this time of night. Perhaps it was simply the subject matter.

Near cleared his throat. "Anyway," he murmured, almost to himself, then looked sharply up at Giovanni again, a mask of cool courtesy sliding smoothly over the unexpected wistfulness. "Was there something you wished to speak to me about?"

"Oh," said Giovanni, getting back to his feet. "Well, uh…yes, I…."

Near looked up at him expectantly, half of his sandwich in one hand.

Giovanni cleared his throat. "I've, ah, decided to accept your offer. To stay on."

For a moment Near looked pleasantly surprised; then the expression reduced to a small smile. "I'm pleased to hear it," he said politely. "Thank you."

"Right. Er, thank you." For a brief moment, Giovanni suspected that this whole encounter had been fabricated by the young genius to manipulate him into staying, then decided that was ridiculous as Near took a neat bite from the sandwich and picked up a pencil in his other hand, turning his attention away from him and to a sketchy outline of a gargoyle. "Good night," Giovanni said over his shoulder as he left the room, wondering if he would later curse his impulsive decision. Hal and Lester would never let him live this down….

"Good night, Giovanni," came the murmured reply, along with the scratching of pencil on paper.


End file.
